The Masculine Click Of Designer Boots
by BruisedSmile
Summary: "Epicness" gets a new definition. An alternate twist on the "New York" finale.


**The Masculine Click Of Designer Boots**

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><p>The excited murmur and squeals of their fellow competitors filtered through the air around them, so close yet somehow distant, a comforting backdrop of noise and activity that would forever fuel her world. Her eyes cast about for a moment, absorbing the frenetic hum of glitz and energy as the crowds milled around the theatre foyer in a mass of restless movement, waiting to hear their fate.<p>

Pulling her attention back to the boy who stood in front of her, she summons a tentative smile, almost flinching under the weight of his beaming gaze. She wrings her fingers into the ruffles of her dress, trying to iron out the unconformable nerves that lingered in the pit of her stomach, before quickly catching herself in the awkward gesture. Rocking on the balls of her feet, she suddenly realises that he's expecting her to start the conversation. Because she always does.

"I think we were good," she ventures at last.

"Good?" he echoes incredulously, his eyes wide in exhilaration. "We were _amazing._"

She can't help but smile at that: the complete faith and boyish enthusiasm he so readily embodied, constantly swept away by their own performances. He may have lacked the true critical and creative insight that she so craved to share, but it still did nothing to lessen the buoyant effect of his good mood. Yet the bright happiness in his eyes makes her own gaze flicker away, something tightening in her chest at the implications behind such a look, the loaded subject she couldn't avoid any longer. With a deep breath, she fixes her smile and turns back to him, her voice innocent and lightly guarded as she carefully phrases her next words.

"The kiss was…interesting."

She watched the joy that brimmed in his expression at the memory of their moment on stage, unable to help the wince she was forced to suppress in response. She was well aware her choice of words had been less than ardent, yet Finn seemed oblivious to the reservation behind her tone. His grin widened, as if awed by it all, unaware of the tangled web of doubt that gripped the girl before him. At a loss for once, Rachel let him ramble on excitedly, her expression benign and smile gently hesitant, remaining quiet as she tried desperately to wrestle her own emotions into line.

The reality was that she didn't actually know how she felt about their kiss, the impromptu interlude that he had jumped on her in the middle of their performance. He had caught her by surprise, cutting off her voice and sense of reason in one fell swoop. She knew he hadn't been happy with her decision not to rekindle their romance; that he couldn't understand how her future dreams could suddenly take priority over the one thing she had been obsessing over for the last two years. And she could see his point. He was right in everything he had said: all she'd been wanting these past few months was for him to forgive her, for them to be back together, and she had been stubbornly vocal about it. She had spent so much time trying to convince him and everyone else that they belonged together, that she had never once stopped to question it. Yes, she could see how her abrupt turnabout in regards to this matter had been more than a little contradictory in his eyes.

But…_New York_.

This was _it_. This was the home of everything she had ever wished and worked for, where her dreams would grow and take life. Art and song, music and theatre – they were her life, in her heart and blood. Her world was here, and performing within that circle of shining lights was her ultimate passion, where she was born to be. He didn't understand that it wasn't a choice between career and romance for her, it wasn't a sacrifice she was being forced to make. _This _was her true love, the embrace of her soul, and she was forever bound to all the wonder and heartaches that came with it.

And it was a world that he just couldn't share with her.

Her instincts had warned her, had rebelled against the dangerous inch of air between them as they drew closer together, beseeching her not to give in to the tempting confusion. They had lashed out even as she cupped her hands around his face and reached up into the familiar pull of his kiss, a moment of weakness that went against every professional fibre in her body. The look in his eyes had haunted her, a reckless longing she just couldn't deny. Some habits are just too hard to break.

As they moved apart, still caught in each other's gazes, she hadn't been able to place the intense flutter of sadness inside her, a sense of loss that was both heartbreaking yet gratifyingly freeing. It wasn't until later, as she worked her way through the busy backstage wings, the exhilaration of applause slowly fading from her ears, that she had finally realised the root of this strange new feeling.

It was the _lack _of feeling that had thrown her so strongly. The kiss itself was desperate and lingering and reassuringly predictable, a validation of everything she'd wanted, a leap of faith and love. She had imagined his touch so often in their long months apart, thought of his kiss in a hundred different ways, replaying her favourite memories over and over in her mind, so sure that she would do anything to get him back again. But so much had changed since their break up, even more than they had been aware of. She had grown up and grown stronger, encouraged by a blossoming independence and far reaching confidence, a self esteem that was at last no longer limited to her voice. Storylines had come and gone, paths had diverged and new ground discovered, and the effects of such an awakening had reached far deeper than she had ever anticipated.

Finn may have felt the joyful proof of an undying love story, but all she felt was an echo. The kiss had left her…cold. And as much as it pained her, as much as she mourned the loss of her first love, she had finally come to realise – sometimes you just couldn't go back. She had just never quite seen it until their lips had met once again on that stage, in the kiss that Finn was currently in the process of raving about.

Rachel worried her bottom lip between her teeth. The truth was that she also couldn't help fearing that the untimely moment of such a display would ultimately work against them. It was a gut feeling that she couldn't seem to shake off, as much as she tried to talk herself around. They had been selfish and thoughtless in giving in to such an impulse, and if it ended up costing them Nationals, she didn't think the others would ever forgive them. Not that she would blame them. And if her fears came to pass, the worst part was that she wasn't sure if she would be able to forgive _him_. She grimaced guiltily at the thought but found herself unable to retract it. He _knew _how important this was to her. A little self-control wouldn't have killed him.

Shaking off her reverie, she quickly refocused her attention back in the moment, catching his gaze again with a faint smile.

"Yeah," Finn was agreeing emphatically. She saw him tilt his head in consideration, searching out the appropriate title for such an epic moment, oblivious to the notably more subdued expression on Rachel's face. He nodded in enthusiasm, his grin broad. "I'm calling it the '_kiss of the century'_."

Rachel opened her mouth but before she could summon a response, she was distracted by a familiar sound behind her, muffled by the carpeted floor but still unmistakable. A frown flitted across her features, her breath skipping in anticipation even before she heard that gorgeously rich voice speak up over her shoulder, as articulate as ever.

"You're wrong, Finn."

Rachel turned around and came face to face with the famed '_Show Choir Whisperer'_ himself. Her eyes widened in surprise as she watched him walk over to join them without invitation, smoothly interrupting their conversation with a casual arrogance that he had always excelled at. Though of course, in this particular arena, she couldn't deny it was an authority that he had every right to claim.

She quickly took him in, struggling to understand how he could be here when he was supposed to be thousands of miles away. The stylishly frayed cut of his jacket rested over a designer shirt that looked creased and travel worn, his hair was slightly more mussed than usual and there was a grim line to the set of his mouth. His eyes were fixed evenly on Finn's as he wasted no time in correcting such a misconception, a scathing contempt in his tone that lay hidden behind a thin veil of aloof criticism.

"That kiss was unprofessional. It was too personal and intense. The judges won't like it. They'll consider it common and vulgar and it will cost you Nationals."

Rachel blinked for a second as the sheer conviction of his words stirred up a knot of panic inside her, yet Jesse didn't miss a single beat. He turned his head, his expression instantly shifting from cool superiority to unconcealed affection as his gaze fell on her. His lips tugged up, his voice softening with a seamless ease that left her stumbling to keep up.

"Hi, Rachel," he finally greeted, seemingly without even pausing for breath. "You look amazing and you sounded great. You just shouldn't have kissed _him_." As he added the last comment, his attention flickered briefly back to Finn, the hard edge of distain returning to his eyes.

She fought back the grin that was threatening to break across her face, her heart inexplicably jumping into overdrive at the sight of him, at the enticing tease that lingered in that beautiful smile of his. It was most certainly not the reaction she ought to be having, and yet her mind was still echoing with the sound of her name, uttered so warmly and naturally, as if he knew it better than his own.

Shaking her head slightly, she felt the words slipping past her lips almost without conscious thought, her mouth not having caught up with her head quick enough. It was all she could think to say in that faintly surreal moment.

"Why are you here, Jesse?"

The redundancy of such a question struck her the moment she said it. He'd never made any effort to hide his intentions since his abrupt return to her life a few weeks ago; a proposition she had implicitly agreed to consider with that one tentative touch she had succumbed to back in McKinley. She should have known and yet she still hesitated, her eyes searching his intently as she waited for his response. A confirmation he gave only a second later.

"For you," he replied instantly, a softly amused tilt to his mouth, as if the answer were obvious.

Rachel only stared at him, somehow struggling to comprehend the profound simplicity of that statement. He'd said it like it was everything, like it was the only thing that mattered. He'd come all the way to New York, on a reckless and expensive impulse, just for _her_? It was a level of support and commitment that she hadn't believed him capable of, and he had confessed it so casually – as if it were merely an act of instinct rather than any sense of obligation.

Jesse had crossed back and forth across the country twice now because of her – or so he claimed. Flunking out of UCLA had no doubt been a contributing factor in that initial decision, she reflected wryly.

She suddenly felt Finn move behind her and quickly dropped her gaze away, pressing her lips together in anxious confusion.

"Dude, back off," she heard him tell Jesse smugly, walking up to confront the older boy with the full bulk of his height, an intimidation tactic that might have held sway over anyone else. Yet Jesse didn't give an inch of ground, crossing his arms and glancing away with an almost bored sigh as Finn continued his little victory speech.

"You're just _jealous_," he accused gleefully. "Jealous of what we have, and what we shared with the entire audience. Because it was shared between two people who _love _each other_._"

Over his shoulder, Rachel frowned at the gloating tone that filled Finn's voice, not entirely appreciative of what exactly he was trying so hard to prove to her ex-boyfriend. He was standing directly in front of her, having almost pushed her out the way in his eagerness to face off with his old rival. He'd stepped between her and Jesse like a blockade, as if he now had a _right_ to keep her away from him; to _'defend'_ her, like he had so mistakenly tried to do on Prom night. She still felt a sharp pinch of irritation when she thought of the way he had so rudely intruded into their evening back then, interrupting what had actually been a _very_ enjoyable moment on the dance floor. Against her will, her heart still skipped a beat at the memory: the feel of Jesse's mouth, hot and insistent against the side of her neck, his touch finally _real_ and tangible once more; his body dragging her closer to his with a familiar assumption that she somehow didn't seem to mind.

She shook her head to herself. It was ridiculous behaviour really: butting into her business uninvited, challenging Jesse like that in front of Quinn, randomly starting a childish shoving match and managing to get both of them thrown out of the festivities. Rachel didn't need anyone to act on her behalf and she certainly didn't go in for all that macho, alpha-male crap. She mentally rolled her eyes. Yeah, he was really one to talk about being jealous.

And now Finn was trying to square off to Jesse all over again, and once again Jesse appeared utterly indifferent and unconcerned by it all. His expression was deadpan, eyes dark and mocking. Like he couldn't have believed the drivel Finn was spouting, even if he had tried. She watched as he raised his eyebrows in blatant scepticism to Finn's idealised assessment of the situation, an almost indulgent lift to his mouth, as if humouring a particularly deluded child.

Despite herself, Rachel felt her anger spiking as she listened. This was sounding suspiciously like a personal ego-trip, the way Finn was carrying on. Like he'd just outmanoeuvred a troublesome opponent and was now enjoying the moment of triumph. There was a crowing authority in his voice that set her temper on edge, her muscles stiffening. She wasn't a goddamn _prize_ to be won – to be touted and flaunted in the face of the competition.

Unaware of the darkening scowl on her expression behind him, Finn went on to announce proudly: "It was like the _'Superman'_ of kisses! It came with its own cape – right, Rachel?"

"Well, that is an _adorable _analogy," drawled Jesse. "But I'm afraid you're pitifully wrong again. Maybe you just need to be educated on the accurate definition of a truly _'epic kiss'_."

Before either could react, he reached out and caught Rachel's hand, tugging her past Finn's objections and pulling her over until they were face to face.

"Jesse, what are you –"

The rest of her words were cut off in a shallow breath, interrupted by his touch as she felt him skim his fingers along her jaw line. Her heart seemed to falter in her chest for one tense moment, swept up in the pulse of a lightening storm. His voice was low and inviting, his eyes softly daring as they held hers.

"Care to show them how it's done?"

Her brows lifted an inch, incredulity fighting against the irrational surge of temptation that shivered through her. Rachel looked into his face, trying to gauge just how serious he was. About everything. She was close enough to feel the heat of his body, Jesse was always so _warm_, and suddenly all she could think of was how much she wanted to feel that combustible warmth against her own skin. A small smile curled the corners of her mouth, almost unconsciously, and apparently it was all the agreement he required.

When he leaned in to capture her lips, she didn't even attempt to dissuade him.

The crowded foyer fell away around them, the scandalous gasps and whispers of their spectators drowned out until only her own fluttering heart and rapid breath was pulsing through her ears. Her hands clenched into his jacket, yanking him closer with a demand he readily obeyed, his body drawing them painfully tight together until not even air could pass between their tangled forms. Rachel bit back a whimper against his mouth and Jesse seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss yet further, claiming every last inch of her and surrendering just as much in return.

Rachel felt herself burning in his embrace, knowing she was breaking beyond repair and not even caring. She gripped him all the fiercer, falling to the siren call of his touch and following it into the dangerous waters that lay ahead, so tired of playing it safe.

_Hypocrite._

She heard the disapproving little voice as it piped up at the back of her mind and dismissed it just as quickly.

_Oh, shut up_.

She had no doubt Jesse was enjoying the dramatic scene they were creating, but she also knew that ultimately it wasn't about the point-scoring with him. At the end of the day, Jesse couldn't give a damn about Finn and what he thought. This was about _them_. She had been at the root of every gesture he had made, every regret and redemption, and he was asking for her and only her. Not as a trophy, not as a nurse for his ego (_fat chance of that_, she thought with a grin), and not out of a misplaced sense of insecurity. She didn't begrudge him this public moment of private affirmation, for as much as she was drawn to the showman in him; Rachel also knew from experience that Jesse was even more intense _without _an audience.

She felt his hands low on her back, urging her to explore as deep as she desired and taking just as much liberty in response. She curved her back and pressed her torso firmly against his, inwardly smiling as she felt a moan rumble in his throat, his arms wrapping strongly around her waist. He tasted of that same promise of fire and heartache, that same whisper of stardust that filled the air of this city they stood in. It was sweeter than heaven and hotter than hell, and it set a drumming beat pounding through her body, a longing fever racing through her heart.

At the edge of the assembled crowd, Kurt tilted his head towards an equally stunned Mercedes. "No contest," he muttered in an under-voice.

The couple finally broke apart from each other, keeping their faces close and barely acknowledging the gossiping scene around them. Jesse didn't even bother to glance over her shoulder to note Finn's reaction, gaping at them no doubt with that gormless look he wore so well. There was nothing _'PG'_ about _that _little display, after all. Given a few more minutes and they would have been heading towards the deep end of _'R'_ territory. But all Jesse's attention was currently far too absorbed on the girl in his arms, smirking at the breathless pant of her parted lips and dark shine of her gaze as it delved into his.

"I thought you said this was unprofessional," she pointed out at last, raising a teasing eyebrow.

Jesse only grinned knowingly. "It's all about picking your moments."

Rachel laughed. She twined her hands around the nape of his neck, idly fingering the curls that rested there, savouring the feel of his hands lightly caressing over her hips. "Have you got somewhere to stay tonight?" she breathed against his cheek, aware too late of the soft wanton pitch in her voice.

He didn't miss it either, judging by the way his fingers flexed almost sorely into her skin, not allowing her to shift even an inch away from him. "I don't know," he mused mischievously. "It was all very last minute you know."

Rachel tugged his mouth closer, murmuring the smiling words against his lips. "Well, I'm sure I can find room somewhere…"

**~o~**

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><p><strong>AN<strong> So yep, I found this little alternate ending on the cutting room floor of the _Glee_ studios and decided to give it the air time it deserved. It was smuggled out by a rebel St. Berry shipper on the writing staff, given a heartfelt seal of approval by Jon and Lea, and thus released out into the big wide world to mend a lot of broken hearts. I must now go into hiding to avoid the wrath of RM and his evil team of saboteurs, but I will continue to scribble out the true St. Berry story from my little secret cave in the misty mountains.

Until next time, lovely people :)


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